


short pleasure, long repentance

by sirisusblack



Series: far too young to die [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe, Death Eaters, Fix-It, Friends to Lovers, Gen, M/M, POV Regulus Black, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26304331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirisusblack/pseuds/sirisusblack
Summary: Harry Potter, filled with the knowledge that he can meet his parents and reunite with Sirius, decides to take the second left, then the second right. It leads him to Regulus Black, of all people, and after that, to way too many Death Eaters than he cares know.
Relationships: Bartemius Crouch Jr. & Evan Rosier, Regulus Black & Bartemius Crouch Jr., Regulus Black & Evan Rosier, Regulus Black & Harry Potter, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Regulus Black/Bartemius Crouch Jr.
Series: far too young to die [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873117
Comments: 8
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Starting is the only way to finish, they say! This is no perfect by any means but I've enjoyed writing it, and thinking about it anyway. I recommend reading the part 1 of the series first or this really won't make sense!

At first, he thinks he’s asleep, dreaming about the things he’s dreamt about before. A soft bed. A quidditch match. A pair of wide eyes. Two little boys laughing, but not him. Never him. Black, black hair. At eleven, at fourteen and at nineteen…

No. Not him.

Regulus Black died at eighteen, alone, in a dark cave, with foreign hands grasping him from all directions, digging into his flesh with their claws. 

It’s too bright now, and he is not alone.

He’s not asleep because his dreams don’t go like this. The scenario is all wrong. He isn’t supposed to have a happy ending. 

He ends with a cave, or a lake, or both of them together. Sometimes he ends because he can’t breathe, sometimes because he bleeds out. Sometimes they break his neck, and that’s when he’s most peaceful. 

Then he begins agains, taking a lungful of air, stale but fresh, comforting him for a moment before he ends again.

He’s been afraid before, for eighteen years, then for an eternity but this is different. He understands know, why they called them terrorists.

The cave is familiar. The dark lord too. Dying -or ending- is what he does best, after all. 

But he hasn’t ended or he hasn’t begun again and he knows there’s something wrong going on.

It is a Monday. He knows because he’s sitting across Sirius, watching him put Dreamless Sleep Potion in their parents’ cups.

He knows this story. It doesn’t go anywhere. 

He tries to move, slap at his hands, scream at his parents when they gulp it down, uncharacteristically happy as Sirius indulges them. He wants to shout, but he stays silent, his head bowed down. 

He knows he could’ve fixed it if it was Sunday. But it’s a Monday and he still has to go through tuesday and thursday and friday before he can get to Sunday.

***

Regulus kind of regrets accepting Harry’s offer, after he calls him for the sixth time that day. 

“What is it?” he picks up the call after he makes sure Sirius isn’t following him to find out his new house. 

“Why aren’t you picking up?” Harry demands.

“I was busy,” Regulus keeps his tone even, “Sirus wouldn’t leave me alone. Would you have preferred to have a chat with me in front of him?”

That makes him pause and release a loud sigh. “I’m locked outside.”

Regulus pats his trousers and grimaces when he finds them on him. “Oh?” 

Harry huffs, seeing right through him. it’s not fair. he’s a decent liar. “Please bring that here now, I need to piss.”

“That’s why bushes exist mate.” 

Harry remains silent on the next end Regulus thinks the connection has ended, somehow. 

“That’s not why bushes exist!” he exclaims when he’s about to slide the phone in his pocket. “That’s why toilets exist, and my toilet happens to exist inside this bloody door!”

“I thought you camped all year,” he murmurs to himself, backing down from his earlier plan to scare the shit out of Harry upon seeing him actually clutching his thighs.

“You took all three of them,” Harry grumbles when he takes out the keychain, refraining from scratching his head sheepishly as he fumbles with the keys. Harry doesn’t wait for a reply when the door opens, throwing himself inside, almost tripping over the boxes the left on the floor. 

“We don’t live like civilized people in this world,” he calls after him, laughing when he shuts the door with a bang. 

My home, he thinks and it ignites a fire that’s both scorching and freezing in the middle of his chest. There’s something wrong with that phrase, the reason is just out of his reach, but it lacks the self loathing he feels at his parents’ house.

“I’m getting too many extra shifts for lying,” Regulus says to Harry when he emerges, looking much more cheerful, patting his wet hands on his baggy jeans. He purposefully doesn’t stare at it, lest something leaves his mouth that he’ll regret. 

“I owe you,” Harry says like he’s holding back a smile. 

“I’m not a liar, Harry, this is taking its’ toll on me,” he says and his phone chimes in his pocket. Harry’s lips quiver and Regulus narrows his eyes at him, folding his arms in front of his chest. “Fix this.”

“I will,” he says with such conviction that Regulus believes him for a moment, “I swear.”

Harry’s phone chimes in his own pocket. 

Regulus throws his head back and groans. He can’t believe James Potter’s son lies better than him. 

“I’m going to tell my friends,” he reminds him. Harry’s face contorts for a moment like he’s about to argue but he swallows it back, and nods. 

“Fair enough.”

***

The dinner at Bellatrix’ house is a lot less entertaining than he thought it would be. Barty is, for some reason, on the edge, vibrating like he needs to spill some of what’s inside him. Even more than usual. Maybe something has happened in the last few days since he’s last spoken to Evan, as busy he was with Harry but he doesn’t think he’s on the right track, from the way he smiles at his phone as he texts like it’s an urgent matter that requires all of his attention.

Barty starts chewing off his brain two hours before Evan arrives, after he dares to mention his mood. Barty is prone to fits of silence and locking himself in his room but this is new, the barbs, the sneer. He’s never been the victim of it before and it unsettles him. When he gets carried away with talking about his own problems and start to ignore others’, Barty is usually the first person to tell him to shut up, before he leaves to brood all alone, coming back to Regulus after a few days. He doesn’t stay and push him until he can’t take it anymore.

He wonders if he’s underestimating Barty again and if he already knows about Harry. 

***

Regulus drags him away from his arm when they leave Bellatrix’ house with her screams echoing behind them. Barty looks cheerful and laid-back, like he didn’t just stab someone, urging Regulus to take a swing at him.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” he asks in a calm tone when they’re a street down from Barty’s house. He raises his brows and tries to yank his arm back but Regulus doesn’t let him.

“I have absolutely nothing to tell you, Regulus,” Barty whispers, “and if you don’t let go of my arm right fucking now, you’ll learn if getting stabbed hurts.” He tilts his head to side. “You know, I really want to know. It will put things in perspective for me.”

Regulus grabs his other arm and shakes him until he’s sure he hears his teeth clatter against each other. “You’re not going to stab anyone else, not me, not your father, not the little dark lords. Understand me?”

Barty’s eyes narrow and Regulus finds a sliver of pleasure in guessing the order of people right. “Was that your plan for the night?”

Barty gasps, abrupt and out of nowhere and Regulus jumps out of his skin in his surprise. “You know me so well, Reggie,” he taps him on the chest, “makes me wonder if you’re pretending not to notice some things.”

That makes him take a step back, and release Barty’s arms. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Then stop fucking acting you know what’s wrong and you can beat it out of me,” Barty says, with a smile that’s basically a knife through his sternum. “Everyone has failed at that, so far.”

He’ll tell Barty some day, getting stabbed hurts here too.

“Fuck you,” he spits out.

Barty throws his head back, his bark-like laughter ringing in his ears even when he turns back to Regulus with his lips twisted downwards.

“So you keep saying.”

Regulus presses his lips together, chewing inside of his cheek to stave off the waves of embarrassment. He blows a breath, shifting his gaze sideways to collect some of composure.

_“Is that how you like to do it?” Barty whispers, his lips grazing his skin and his laughter ringing in his ears before he understand what he means._

“I’m going to go now,” he declares in the end, “and we’ll act civil in front of Evan tomorrow. He won’t notice a thing.”

Barty shrugs, “Then focus on improving your acting skills until tomorrow evening, Reggie,” he mocks.

***

“Harry is,” he says and Evan actually continues to eat like he’s sure Regulus is baiting them and he refuses to fall for it.

Barty keeps his smile on, his eyes squinted with the smile and goes straight for the jugular, “So Sirius doesn’t even know?”

He grabs Barty’s glass and tosses it back. “No, I promised Harry.”

“I see,” Barty says, and beckons the waiter, ordering another bottle. “It’s on you, right, Evan?”

“Sure, mate,” he answer with a dazed expression, “order whatever you want.” Then he turns towards Regulus and hisses out, “Not you, Black. You can go drink from the taps for all I care.”

Barty stretches out like he’s having the best moment of his life.

“I promised,” he repeats and Evan laughs, a cruel sound that doesn’t match with the person he’s known for twenty years here.

“Yes, and we also promised each other fifteen years ago to be honest with each other.”

“But you’re not Harry Potter, Evan,” Barty interjects, “you can’t even manage to find Moody. How will you be of use to him to make amends with Sirius?”

“You’re being truly unfair right now,” Regulus says, his voice low and croaked and it’s clear as day that he’s holding back tears.

“I think we’ve already established life is not fair,” Barty says dismissively.

The waiter brings their bottle and leaves like he feels the tension between them.

“I told you not to cause a scene tonight,” Regulus says to Barty, “but you can’t help it, can you?”

“Yes, especially when you’re around,” Barty huffs, “have to get your attention somehow.”

Evan leans forward to fill their glasses with his eyes moving around his skull like he’s processing something rapidly.

“Drink, everyone,” he orders, his burrows furrowed in concentration.

Barty pushes the glass away with the tip of his finger, and gets up from his seat. “I’ll take off now, early day tomorrow,” he jerks his chin towards Evan, “I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Duru is waiting,” he replies, confusing Regulus further.

Barty nods, and walks away without looking back once.

“Why is your girlfriend waiting for him?”

Evan gives him an odd look and talks like they do in foreign countries, when they think you’ll get what you’re saying if they speak slowly and loudly. “She’s waiting for me, not for Barty.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He slides a handful of bills under his plate and gets up, giving him no choice but to follow.

“Regulus,” he says when he’s putting his jacket on.

“Hm?”

“Thank you,” he says, with a small smile, “I thought I was the dumb one of the group.”


	2. Chapter 2

Regulus calls Barty fourteen times, more than twice Harry called him when he was stuck outside and was about to piss his pants.

But Barty doesn’t pick up or return his calls, which doesn’t sit right with Regulus because Barty has an absolutely abominable ringtone and it drives him up the wall. 

Every note is a nightmare for Barty, and he uses that as an alarm clock as well, to wake up at the crack of dawn every single day.

It’s not like they have the option to put it on silent for a piece of unbothered sleep. But they have the option to choose the ringtone, which is why Regulus is still baffled by Barty’s choice.

He tries to act natural around Harry when he comes back but Harry keeps stealing glances at him and Regulus feels like everything he does is a bit odd for Harry anyway.

“So how did it go?” Harry asks after a half an hour of silence in their new sitting room.

Regulus snaps out of his distracted state and looks at his companion watching him with shrewd eyes.

“How did what go?”

“Your dinner with Crouch and Rosier.”

“Oh, that...”

He doesn’t know the answer to that, and he suppresses the urge to call Barty again as Harry refuses to take his eyes off.

“I don’t know how it went, to be honest,” he confesses. Harry’s face scrunch up in confusion, and he sets his cup down on the floor.

“It’s a pretty straightforward question,” Harry remarks, much to his annoyance. He likes how Evan and Barty always go along with his choice to not talk about things, which is not that wise probably, considering how they ended up today.

“Well, my friends are not that straightforward.”

Harry is not offended, or pissed off by his snappy reply and he presses. “You’ve known them for quite a long time though. You must know how to look for signs.”

“Apparently I’m the dumb one of the group,” he snaps.

Harry looks amused, beside anything.

“I don’t know about Rosier but Crouch did manage to fool Dumbledore. I wouldn’t feel too bad about it.”

“You really have a way of knowing where to strike,” he grumbles, throwing his phone on the floor in defeat. “Barty somehow knew you were here,” he mumbles, forcing himself to look into his eyes.

Harry’s brows shoot up, disappearing under his hair. “Yes, he did,” he says slowly.

Regulus is gobsmacked and he feels his chin drop to the floor. “What do you mean?”

“We came across yesterday after you left for your dinner,” Harry says, grabbing a pillow to hold in front of his abdomen. “We talked a bit there. Didn’t you tell them then, anyway?"

Regulus groans, clutching his head between his palms. “No, I was going to tell them today.”

Harry doesn’t respond and Regulus lifts his head unwillingly.

“Why didn’t you tell me you saw him?”

“I didn’t see you since yesterday afternoon,” Harry reminds him, with an edge of defiance in his voice.

Regulus doesn’t really have anything to say to that, since he was wallowing in misery all night yesterday, and slept until late hours, long after Harry left.

He brought this on himself.

“Barty basically tore a new one for me,” he sighs. “He’d been nagging me all evening yesterday and I thought he was annoyed about something else and was taking it out on me.”

“Does he do that a lot? Take it on you?” Harry asks. Regulus almost laughs at the protective tone and the tense lines of his mouth.

“Not really. He likes to complain a lot, but he chooses to be mean to people he doesn’t like usually.”

Harry hums, biting on his lips. He doesn’t get why he’s worried until he opens and closes his mouth a few times.

“He’s not going to tell Sirius,” he says with an eye roll.

“Am I that transparent?” Harry asks with a grimace.

“I don’t know,” he says, “but I know how to read someone whose biggest problem is Sirius finding out about the shit they did.”

“And mum and dad,” Harry adds.

Regulus snorts, “Worry about Sirius firstly, since I’m pretty sure he’ll be the one who’ll react most violently.”

“Somehow I can’t imagine Lily and James reacting calm, from what you’ve told me.”

“Well, I’ve never been in their presence when they were in the best moods.”

“They will not be in the best moods when they see me either.”

Harry basically pouts as he says this, kicking the legs of the table with his big toe.

“Let’s focus on the problem at hand,” Regulus folds himself in two, hugging his legs. He gazes at Harry above knees and squints at him. “Why are you laughing Potter?”

“You know, I know how to read people whose first instinct to call me Potter when they’re annoyed.”

“Don’t you dare,” Regulus warns him.

“Have I ever told you about Draco Malfoy?” Harry asks between giggles.

Regulus bangs his forehead on his knees. “Save those stories for someone who’s interested.”

“Crouch maybe?” He asks innocently.

“He’s more likely to stab you instead of listening to your stories.”

Harry frowns, “I thought he liked me.”

“He probably hates you by proxy now.”

Harry leans back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Well, invite them over the weekend then.”

Regulus contemplates the offer for a few minutes and in the end, he nods, thinking “hard choices, easier future”.

“I’ll talk to Evan first.”

****

He goes to Barty first.

He doesn’t knock on the door because he’s not welcome at their house. He hadn’t been when they were still alive, because Barty’s father loathed his surname and nothing has changed since then.

He doesn’t sleep that night, alternating between drinking beer and coffee, going to toilet every ten minutes on his tiptoes so he doesn’t wake Harry. But Harry is either too tired or completely lost to the world because he sleeps through him stepping on a wet pavement and falling with a scream.

He is at the door half an hour before sunrise, with a cigarette dangling between his fingers, stubbing it in the pot Barty’s father is in charge of looking after he signed off the deal that allowed a quarter of the forest in South London to turn into a wizard village.

Barty looks somehow different from usual when he steps outside and it takes Regulus too long to realise why, and he has to run after Barty to catch him. his first instinct is to grab him by the arm but he stumbles when Barty spins towards him, looking ready for murder. 

“Don’t push me Black,” he hisses, and Regulus bites inside his cheek before he mentions the talk he had with Harry about people who start using surnames when they’re angry. 

“You have a beard,” he says instead, his hand flying up to touch the line of his jaw without his permission. Barty’s face morphs into shock at this, blinking his eyes. 

“Is that surprising?” he asks, curling his fingers around Regulus’ wrist to remove his fingers from his face. 

Regulus doesn’t understand the question first, busy with the revelation that Barty’s beard is red. When he shakes himself, Barty is sporting an amused expression.

“It shouldn't be, right?” he mumbles, suddenly embarrassed, horrified at his own awkward behaviours. He genuinely hopes Barty isn’t giving too much to it, but it’s an empty wish, considering Barty. 

He shrugs, his face closed off already. He drops his wrist like it burns and turns to walk away without any other word, but Regulus is prepared this time and he falls back into their usual rhythm smoothly. 

“You know you’re still my best friend, right?” he says, hands hidden in his pockets, clammy and cold. 

He needn't have worried because Barty doesn't even react, let alone seem moved. “You’re not mine,” he snorts.

Regulus ignores that. “How do you feel about having dinner at our place?” He instantly winces at his wording, both for the possible snarky replies, and for calling Harry’s house our place already.

Barty shoots him an indecipherable look but doesn’t design with an answer, fumbling with the keys to unlock the kindergarten, unable to hide his shaking fingers.

“Evan is coming,” he lies.

Barty huffs, “I eat with Evan every day. I think he’ll forgive me for skipping one meal.”

Regulus steps in front of Barty and gently nudges him with his foot. “Will you forgive me for lying?”

“It's not about you lying, Regulus,” Barty responds with a bitter smile, “We all lie every single day. It's about you begging to be in Sirius’ life when he doesn’t move a hair to make space for you. This is about you hiding Potter so he won’t take the small bit of Sirius’ attention away from you.”

He is gobsmacked when Barty finishes.

“You’re jealous of my brother,” he says, with a hysterical edge. 

“You're jealous of your brother,” Barty points out, unbothered, taking a step down to put some space between then.

Regulus leans in, and clicks his tongue. He whispers, “You’re jealous of Harry then.”

Barty’s eyes narrow for a moment, then his lips curl into a smirk. He is into his personal space in the blink of an eye, and he pats down Regulus’ shoulders as if to clear some dust. 

“Text me the details for dinner, Reggie,” he mumbles. “I beg you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finally written down a general plot for this part of the series, and as you see, it'll be 4 chapters, which then I'll decide if I'll continue in a new part. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! let me know what you think <3


	3. Chapter 3

Harry assures him he’s perfectly capable of cooking dinner for his friends, kicking him out to meet with Sirius, to fend off his endless questions and rising suspicion.

Sirius is unbearably chatty that day, talking about this and that until Regulus feels like his ears are about to pop with the truly unpleasant sound of his brother’s voice.

The last time he dreaded listening to him to this rate was when Sirius was sixteen, and at a screaming match with Mother about his endless detentions.

When Sirius opens his mouth, ready to launch into another story about James fucking Potter, like what James fucking Potter did that day is the most important thing they could talk about.

Turns out it is.

“Lily and James are thinking about adopting.”

“What?” he exclaims, and reaches across the table to grab Sirius by the collar. “Why?”

Sirius gives him an odd look and Regulsus forces himself to lean back and tries to act casually.

“Why are you so bothered?” Sirius inquires with narrowed eyes, restring his elbows on the table.

Regulus sniffs, “I just think it’s not fair to Harry.”

Sirius raises his eyebrows. ”Since when do you call him Harry?”

Regulus kicks him under the table, his unease reaching a new peak as Sirius stares at him like he actually wants an answer. “What else do I call him? Your godson?”

He shrugs, lookşing abruptly disinterested. “He won’t come here for a very long time. They could help raise a child in that period.”

“No,” he grabs Sİrius’ sleeve. Sirius lets out a genuıinelty shocked laugh and yanks his arm back. “What? Do you want him to die?”

He clears his throat, “He looked so miserable,” he recites the words he prepared earlier to use in case this subject came up. “Wouldn’t be too bad if he came now, would it? Don’t you miss him?”

Sirius frowns, looking at him like he’s seeing Regulus for the first time. “I thought you’d be jealous.”

It really is that annoying when someone says that, he thinks testily but keeps his smile on. No wonder Barty flipped.

“No,” he says with a finality in his tone, widening his smile until his eyes close and Sirius disappears from the view.

“If you say so,” he says, but it only helps to aggravate him. “Well. Not really. It was selfish to wish him here.”

Alarm bells start ringing in his head, his stomach churning. “But you did want him right?” Regulus asks with a nervous laugh.

“Not really,” Sirius says slowly, looking him in the eye like he wants to make sure he understands it. “He needs-“

“Evan and Barty are waiting for me,” he cuts him off. If he lets Sirius finish his words they’ll only come back to bite him in the backside.

“Oh, can I come too?” Sirius asks, batting his eyelashes at him.

“No, this is our alone time,” Regulus lies, his heart beating wildly in his chest. “We’re celebrating Evan buying his market.”

“Did he finally?”

“Yeah, and the house over the market too,” Regulus says proudly.

“Isn’t that too big for one person?”

“He’s with his girlfriend,” Regulus replies, suddenly in awe that Evan seems to have all of his shit together while he and Barty get into meaningless fights with each other and everyone else in their lives.

“He really got his shit together,” Sirius says, and Regulus gives him a tight lipped smile, getting up.

“Yes and I will not make him wait tonight so you can tell me one more story about Potter, brother,” he declares, enjoying the look of mild annoyance and surprise on Sirius’ face. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?” he mumbles distractedly, his stomach twisting in anticipation. He’s been having nightmares about Barty facing Harry that he’s running on two hours of sleep and he can’t deal with his brother one moment longer.

“Sure,” Sirius says, suddenly timid and accepting but there’s not enough brain cells left in Regulus’ brain to spare a thought to this sudden change.

***  
Barty is not there when he arrives, only ten minutes late.

“He ditched me, didn’t he?” he says, indignation rousing in him.

“He didn’t,” Harry says quickly, scratching the back of his neck. “He was just here.”

“Is he in the bathroom?” He cranes his neck to see the hallway but no one is there.

Evan shakes his head, curled into one corner of the sofa like he wants to disappear, hugging the pillow Regulus used last night as a shield. “He left, actually.”

“Why?” he asks, swallowing around the tightness in his throat when his voice comes out scratchy. He doesn’t think he can handle fighting with Barty any longer and he’ll stop trying to make amends with him when he clearly doesn’t want to make an effort, or even respond to his attempts.

As he spirals into a pit of outrage and resentment, at Barty for crowding him to a corner, he spots the pained look on Evan’s face and follows the line of Evan’s sight

He spins around to face Harry, his eyes wide open in alarm. “What is that?” he hisses.

“A watch,” Harry says, with his hands on his hips like he answered this question multiple times already.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he grabs his hair and tugs at it until the panic in his chest recedes a bit. “Where did he go?” he asks Evan.

“Don’t know, he just stormed off the second he came into the living room,” he leans in and whispers, looking horrified, fisting his hands on the pillow, “and they were making fun of Draco Malfoy, getting along like a house on fire, then he saw the watch and just lost it.”

He pauses, panting like he’d been running. “He took off mumbling tick tock like when he first came.”

He rubs his face, furious with himself for forgetting to mention it to Harry, and the guilty expression on Harry’s face rubs the salt on his wound.

It would be so easy to blame Harry for all these things happening,but one thing he learned here is to take responsibility.

Still, he can’t bring himself to say “It’s not your fault,” at that moment.

“I’ll go find him,” he tells them, not receiving an answer, but only mildly pitying looks.

***

  
Regulus realises he has no idea what Barty does when he’s not with Evan or him. Does he go to the library? To a bar? Somehow, he doesn’t think he goes back to his house when he signs off.

He checks Evan’s market first, calling him continuously at the same time. He goes to kindergarten, Bellatrix’ house, and also to the train station before he accepts he has no choice but to go to his house.

He hears his ringtone when he is a two streets down, people looking around to place where the sound is coming from with varying degrees of annoyance on their faces. Regulus fastens his steps, falling into a run when he decides he can’t take the wait anymore.

He finds the phone in front of the wide open door and he grabs it from the floor before he barges in the house, welcome or not. He opens every door, every room causing a sense of anxiety in him.

But it’s still easy to know which one of them is Barty’s room because it’s the only one without a mirror on the opposite wall to the door.

It was his own image reflected at him that made him nervous. He can only guess what that does to Barty.

He knows who’s responsible.

Barty has told him before, that his father sleeps upstairs, his door locked and with the wardrobe guarding the door. But it’s wide open when he reaches the top of the stairs.

It takes Regulus seconds, minutes, hours to get a grip but in the end he still can’t find a reason for Crouch Sr to be sitting on his bed cross legged with multiple knives sticking out of his body, like they’re nothing more than loose fabric.

Barty’s father lips curl into a sneer and he taps his foot on the floor impatiently. “Are you daft, boy?” he snaps, causing Barty to wince, his shoulders tightening like he expects something after that sentence and it’s what snaps Regulus out of his stupor.

He grabs Barty by the wrist, noting his wrist is thinner than usual and yanks him despite him resisting, dragging him away until Barty’s door is safely shut behind them. He considers pushing the bed but contents himself with locking it.

“It doesn’t work,” Barty says.

Regulus frowns and pulls the handle down, looking at Barty in question when it stays locked.

Barty looks like he’s on the verge of laughing and Regulus understands what he means.

“Of course it doesn’t,” he snaps, “what, do you think you’re the only one who stabbed anyone here?”

He starts pacing back and forth, glancing at Barty lying down on his bed with an arm hiding his face every once in a while.

“You can come live with us.”

The silence that follows is deafening and Regulus almost repeats himself thinking he didn’t hear but he’s saved from embarrassing himself.

“Honestly Reg,” he says, sounding so tired, “I’d rather stay here with him than with you two.”

“I cannot believe this,” he laughs in disbelief, “this is beyond basic jealousy. It’s self sabotage.”

“Stop saying that.”

Regulus doesn’t miss that he doesn’t rush to deny it this time. “You’re jealous of Harry,” he repeats, his voice louder and more confident.

Barty removes his arm and stares at him. “Enlighten me.”

“You think I fancy him,” he says, lowering his voice.

Barty pushes himself into a sitting position and laughs after a pause. “I’ve never even seen the two of you together.”

Regulus goes on like he hasn't heard him and gestures around the room. “You lay there, in the dark, imagining things we could be doing in the dark, in that house, all by ourselves.”

He knows he’s crossed a line when Barty’s expression goes blank. “No one fucks in the dark, Regulus, try harder.”

Regulus holds his breath and says it in one go. “I would.”

Barty inhales, his fingers twitching next to him. “That’s below the belt.”

Regulus ignores the guilt, and forces the next words out. “But I would like it better with lights on,” his eyes catch the full moon from the open window. “Or with some moonlight.”

An amused expression replaces the grimace on Barty’s face. “Some candles as well. Maybe add rose petals.”

“No, that’s dangerous,” he says. “Inviting trouble.”

Barty laughs despite himself but stops himself short when Regulus beams at him. He walks closer, sitting next to him, half sure Barty is not going to bite his head off.

“I’m sorry for not warning Harry beforehand,” he says, looking him in the eye. His heart picks up the pace when Barty’s eyelids flutter when he touches his wrist on a whim.

“Stop apologising,” he shakes it off, looking embarrassed to be caught, “just do better.”

Regulus wants that abashed boy back, so he holds his hand.

“What are you doing?” Barty sneers, trying to yank his hand back but Regulus doesn’t let him, rubbing his thumb over the top until Barty stops resisting.

“Practicing?”

“Do you have to practice on me?”

Regulus blows his breath from his nose and raises one eyebrow in question. “Would you rather I picked someone else?”

“...No.”

Regulus smiles and decides to go for it before he loses his courage and Barty withdraws to his shell.

He moves closer until their thighs press against each other, and Regulus lifts his free hand up to his face to cup his cheek, tilting Barty’s head back, his eyes on his mouth parting in invitation.

He traces his thumb over the bottom lip and leans down to whisper in his ear. “How is this? Am I any good?”

Barty laughs breathlessly. “You won’t get any complaints.”

Regulus’ lips turn up in a smile and he presses a quick kiss on his cheekbone before he puts some space between them to look him in the eyes, only to see Barty has shut his eyes tightly.

“Look at me.”

“No,” Barty growls.

Regulus lets his hand wander down, stopping on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under his palm. “But I love your eyes.”

His body responds the same way when Barty’s heartbeat fastens, and he opens his eyes, flashing with indignation as if he sensed Regulus could feel his reaction.

“You love them because they make you forget who I am.”

“I’m not afraid of who you are,” he says, resting his hand high on his thigh, almost on his crotch.

“It’s because you’re a bloody idiot, Regulus,” he says, his voice suddenly tired, like he hates himself for not stopping Regulus, eyes falling closed again.

This is not how this will go, if Regulus has a say in it.

“Please look me in the eye,” he pleads. He moves his hand to his fly when he doesn’t get an answer, and Barty’s jaw clenches.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“It feels too real that way,” he confesses, his voice so small.

“Isn’t that good?” Regulus wonders out loud, truly confused.

“I can’t get used to it,” he breaths out, his head falling back, giving Regulus space to kiss upwards from his neck to his jaw.

“You’re going to, one way or another.”

Barty whines when he starts kissing the corner of his mouth, his cheekbones, his eyelids, with a hand tangled in his hair.

“You’re killing me,” he whispers.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Regulus laughs when Barty’s back arches and he hides his face in the crook of his neck.

Barty bites on the flesh where his shoulder and neck meets, and his eyes open a fraction to give him a small, half grin.

“Not right now.”

Regulus presses, “Come on, please show me your eyes.”

Barty’s eyes open wide and he rolls them in a dramatic fashion. “Fuck’s sake, you’re insistent,” he says but doesn’t close them again other than blinking, and Regulus decides to reward him.

“You’ve gone better at this,” Barty remarks into his ear.

“Practice makes perfect.”

Barty twists the skin on the top of his hand, causing him to tighten his fingers in reflex. He doesn’t know if it was Barty’s intention but he enjoys it nevertheless. 

Barty had always been one step ahead of him but Regulus knows he can keep up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they finally got their shit together, thank god. The drama will continue over part 1 because part 3 is pure regulus/barty which they absolutely deserve.
> 
> Hope you liked it!


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